Big D - The Boy Who Survived
by uberdude454
Summary: A lonely closeted childhood and a Dementor attack almost leads Dudley Dursley to give up living, but Dudley finds he is not as alone as he believed. Coming out for Dudley is rough and Big D walks a brutal road before finding happiness slow burn gay slash, later chapters will have non-consensual & consensual sex, magical coercion : Dudley/Gregory G Dudley/Seamus F RATING MA
1. A well known beginning

"This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. The Harry Potter characters referenced in this story are created and owned by J.K. Rowling, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Harry Potter. The story I tell here about Dudley and friends is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story. I am grateful to Ms. Rowling for her wonderful stories about Hogwarts, for without her books, my story would not exist."

 **A well known beginning and it's lesser known details.**

 _"_ _You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son._

 _He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands._

 _The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling_

 _damage_ _you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you."_

At number four Privet Drive, lived a family who were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. At least that is how the story was told. For a story is exactly what it was. In less civil circles it might also be called a lie. You couldn't say this out loud however, not if you wanted to be normal. Which is to say, loved.

The Boy Who Lived, who the Wizarding World would know to be the famous Harry Potter, grew up with this family. Harry was most decidedly not normal. Which is to say, he was most decidedly unloved. Should one look back upon the first eleven years of Harry's life, it could very well be called nothing short of miraculous that the small bespectacled boy had turned out so well. Relatively unselfish, certainly courageous, and possessed of a solid sense of justice Harry Potter had survived his life with the Dursleys and emerged as both a decent and functional human being. He never knew his real parents and was raised by his only living relations the Durselys. Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, who shouted at Harry when he did speak to the boy, and beat him regularly when he did not. . Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. Both were keen to remind Harry of his worthlessness, that he was a burden, that he amounted to nothing and was intrinsically an unlovable non-entity. They treated him as something to be ashamed of and to be suppressed and beaten down. Seeking to supress his 'unaturalness' they made every effort to crush him into subservient silence, and of course 'normality'.

Harry's story is well known to many in the Wizarding World. From the true story of his parent's murder by Lord Voldemort, to the final battle at Hogwarts where Harry finally defeated his parent's killer and delivered the Wizarding World from the Dark Lord's Tyranny, his stories have become things of legend in the minds of the many. What many of his admirers often fail to appreciate however are the hurdles Harry faced growing up in the Dursley household. Certainly many know that he was raised by Muggles and even some have heard that the Dursleys were 'Muggles of the very worst sort', most fail to grasp the depths of what such aspersions truly entailed. Most accounts of the Dursleys by Wizards and Witches who have met them first hand, invariably communicate a certain level of astonishment in the recounting. First hand witnesses recall their shock at the blatant neglect and disdain Harry's relatives regarded their nephew with. Interviews with Harry's friends have suggested Harry's childhood to have been a desperate struggle of privation and loneliness. Even these tales fail to fully convey an understanding of the abuse Harry endured since birth and yet somehow he came through it all to become the decent and brave boy that saved the world. To be sure Harry Potter was indeed "The Boy Who Lived".

There remains another tale that deserves to be told. A tale of a much less famous boy who also lived at Number 4 Privet Drive. A boy who also somehow survived his own story of abuse and neglect while holding onto a secret that set him apart. Dudley Dursley was known typically only for his role as Harry's constant tormentor and as the all around bullly of Harry's school and neighborhood. Spoiled beyond all restraint by Dursley's, Dudley was born into his role as the obese spoiled thug and dim witted butt of jokes in Harry's life. From the perspective of Harry's story Dudley becomes the perfect embodiment of what Harry is not and serves as an easy lightning rod for vicarious retribution in the story. What one must consider however, is that Dudley was not simply a animated bundle of mean-spirited caricatures. Dudley was also a person in his own right. He was certainly a bitter, cruel and spoiled person, but only the very heartless or shallow could completely blame Dudley for being this way. For if one was to be honestly objective, they would have to concede that Dudley was the boy his parents raised him to be. Spoiled by his mother and father, encouraged to be a glutton and indulged in his cruelty Dudley was raised to be a mean and unhappy boy. Like his cousin however, Dudley also survived his childhood despite the odds. This is his story.


	2. The Other Boy

**The Other Boy**

 _"Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."_

Dudley Dursley didn't like himself very much. He had all the latest games, the most coveted toys and parents who gave him anything he asked for. He even had a second bedroom set aside to accommodate his possessions. He liked to show these treasures off and make the other boys wheedle him for the privilege of playing with them. He was the strongest boy in his class and never got into trouble with his dad or mum when his grades fell. His mother made sure he had all the chocolate he wanted and he always got to watch his favorite shows. No one ever told him what to do nor was he made to do what he didn't like. He slept when he wanted to. Ate when and what he wanted to and got to hit his cousin whenever he felt like it. All in all, Dudley was a spoiled and miserable boy.

To the casual viewer, Dudley Dursley was a study in contrasts to his small and skinny cousin. Blond where Harry was dark and heavy where Harry was scrawny, Dudley was showered with praise where Harry was subjected to denigration. Where Harry was kept in a state of near starvation, Dudley was encouraged to eat without restraint. As the Durselys waged a long term campaign to crush Harry under the wheel of privation and condemnation, they were also unwittingly rotting away their own son Dudley in a mire of gluttonous excess. So it was that both boys suffered greatly, in their own separate ways, under the so called 'care' of the Dursleys.

Given his upbringing it should come as no surprise that Dudley gravitated to become Harry's tormentor at home. Children can be cruel and spoiled children crueler still, but a spoiled child encouraged in their cruelty is a truly spiteful creature. Harry certainly suffered at the hands of his bullying cousin and in his role as the boorish ogre Dudley can almost be dismissed as a simple villain and nothing more than background color defining the struggle of Harry Potter's childhood. We almost forget that Dudley was also a victim of Dursley neglect. It is easy to miss that when you looked far past the brutal layers of spoiled cruelty and unhappiness that made up Dudley Dursley's shell, you would find a boy that felt alone and afraid.

You see, Dudley was not normal. He was not 'magic' like his cousin, but he was nevertheless different. It was something that had crept up on him slowly at first, like the mounting heat of a summer day. A heat one barely registers at first that then builds until it becomes a stiffing sweat. With the onset of puberty that slow building heat suddenly flowered into a hungry burning that intruded on Dudley's every waking moment and tainted his thoughts and feelings. When he slept, his dreams became tinder for what burned in Dudley and would haunt him through the following day. Instinct told him to hide what he felt. He had seen how his parents treated the abnormal and Dudley knew that if he ever let on, he would loose his parent's love forever. Despite the pretense he presented to the world and the lies he told himself, Dudley could not escape his secret truth. Dudley was abnormal and not in any fashionable or acceptable manner that his mother and father could ignore or explain away. Dudley was tainted and indelibly unclean. Dudley was gay.

It was when he was fourteen, while his cousin was away at that strange magic school, that Dudley first really noticed Piers Polkis. Dudley had already known Piers for years by then. Piers often came by Dudley's house to play on Dudley's computer and to read Dudley's comics. He also helped Dudley terrorize the younger children in the neighborhood, especially Dudley's cousin. Dudley told his parents that Piers was his friend, and having not made an actual friend before, Dudley could only suppose this was close enough to the truth. In any case, there came a time when Dudley began to find it difficult _not_ to notice Piers. Dudley became distracted by Piers' sharp blue eyes and how his fellow ruffian's jawline framed up with his profile so well. He would notice the way Peir's mouth moved when he talked or how he smelled in the locker room at school. Once, Dudley became so caught up with how well Piers' P.E. uniform fit that Piers caught him staring. Dumb luck revealed that a food stain had marred Piers' shorts and Dudley's starring became self explained and safely dismissed In the aftermath, Dudley had been left dumbstruck and secretly terrified with the near blunder. To shore up the crack in his deception, Dudley cajoled his cronies to join him in bullying a younger student that was conspicuous for his feminine manner. This sort of thing quickly became part of Dudley's mask at school. 'Pansies' at school were often the target of Dudley's crew and he made an effort to include slurs like 'poof' or 'queer' in his range of insults. His father congratulated him for his masculinity when the school reported Dudley. Despite the seeming success of his masquerade, it didn't make him feel any safer. He just liked himself a little less every time he played the part.

Piers in the meantime started to intrude upon Dudley's waking thoughts and dreams alike. Late at night, when alone in bed or early in the morning while in the bath, Dudley would think about Piers. He would think about him while in class or when prowling the playgrounds. Worst of all, he thought about Piers when he was with him. He thought about what Piers' body looked like under his clothes and how he sounded and felt like when they wrestled in P.E.. He thought allot about what it felt like to wrestle Piers. He thought about what it would be like to wrestle with Piers naked. Other boys also came to Dudley's notice gradually. He noticed different things about each of them and eventually he imagined them wrestling naked together. He would sometimes wonder if any of them noticed him. It made him sad when he did because deep down he doubted they could. Deep down, Dudley couldn't believe anyone would. By this point he completely loathed himself and had eaten himself into dangerous obesity. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting him. Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about Piers and the other boys.

It was some time before Dudley allowed himself to name what it was that was different about him. He did not want to admit that he was gay. As long as he could avoid admitting it in his mind, it was just 'something', a shapeless problem that he could ignore or keep at bay. Something that would work itself out in time, leaving him alone finally to get on with the happiness his parents had promised him in life. It would be like an unwanted houseplant that would die off if you left it in the dark long enough. Dudley dedicated considerable energy into avoiding the matter, and instead became more of a bully and made a special point to pick on those who might be suspect of a 'sissy nature'. Dudley had been shown all his life by his parents exactly how someone who is 'different' was to be treated. He knew in no uncertain terms that if he were ever to be discovered by his father he would be disowned, having witnessed more than one tirade by his Vernon Dursley on the subject of 'those filthy deviant bum robbers'. The vicious speculation his mother shared with her clutch of gossips concerning a few 'confirmed bachelors' of the community made it certain Dudley never wanted her to find him out. While adamant in hiding from the world, the self denial he struggled to maintain couldn't last once puberty set in. When Dudley first discovered masturbation he attempted to tack on hastily forced images of a non specific girls at the tail-end of the scenarios he entertained. It was a fiction he could not maintain for long and soon he became resigned to what he knew. He was a 'faggot', and as self hating as he had become he thought the very worst of himself for it. So Dudley wallowed in self loathing and became a mean spirited and brutal boy armored in callouses of cruelty and violence, reasoning that it was better to be feared that afraid.

For the first thirteen years of his life Dudley's fate was in free fall. He seemed destined to become as bigoted and shallow as his parents and with a good shot at surpassing them both in pure spite and poor health. It is therefore somewhat ironic that Dudley's penchant for violence proved to become a lifeline that kept him for drowning in the destiny he had been consigned to. By fourteen Dudley had become truly enormous and dangerously unhealthy. Cornered by the sternest confrontation from the school nurse, Dudley's parents had ultimately been forced to recognize the problem after years of negligent denial. A strict diet was put into place and naturally disaster ensued. For Dudley had never been given prohibitions or limits in his life ever before. He reacted most predictably, like an enormous spoiled child. He destroyed his game systems, smashed his things, screamed and cried the largest tears he could. To his surprise his parents did not relent. Dudley stubbornly railed against the foreign restrictions and unfamiliar denials he now faced. His parents attempted to deprive his cousin even more severely in an attempt to mollify Dudley's displeasure, but it made no difference (and Dudley strongly suspected Harry used magic to get food of his own in any case). All summer long Dudley sulked and whined and threw tantrums, but the diet remained. Dudley then took to stealing candy from the markets and hoarding it in his room. His mother eventually discovered the hidden caches of junk food and matters escalated further when they threatened to withhold Dudley's allowance. Escalation seemed inevitable. Dudley's dedication to gluttony seemed insurmountable until his until his passion for wrath was given an opportunity to openly express itself.

Dudley had discovered the joy of boxing. A sport that allowed him to unleash his feelings on other boys without reprisal drew Dudley right in. He was naturally strong and his size proved advantageous in the ring. Despite the attraction sanctioned violence possessed however, Boxing was first and foremost an exhausting sport. Confronted with demanding physical effort for the first time in his life, Dudley often came close to quitting it all together. Being so large made him a tank in the ring but it also made him short winded and made his back hurt almost all the time. The required coordination he lacked was difficult to build. The workouts and drills involved rendered him sore for days and there was never a day that he did not ache somewhere. Dudley had never been made to persevere through anything difficult before and he was frequently tempted to give the whole thing up in the heat of a sulky tantrum. When he found himself at that precipice however, he found he could not bring himself to give up the view he was treated to in the locker room after practice.

Boxing was a club sport, not a mandatory PE class. As such, the average boy in Boxing was there because of a commitment rather than obligation. As committed athletes will normally train harder than obligated one, the boys in boxing tended to be better filled out than the typical student. Some of the other athletes of the school would also join in during off seasons. Dudley got to see each and every one of them naked in the locker room. He would see them getting suited up before practice. Pants and underwear would come off all around and Dudley could get in careful quick glances as he changed along with them. He learned how to position himself so that he had a perfect view of Piers hoisting an athletic supporter snugly around his plump bum while Dudley innocently tied his shoes. He saw them when they stripped down and showered together after training. Sweaty pumped bodies being revealed, caressed with soapy water and then dried and dressed again, Dudley got to see quite a bit. He was careful not be predictable in his peeking but it made his heart pound and he often had to cover with a towel to hide an inevitable erection . His terror of discovery gave him to enough caution to be careful. He made sure not to peek too much or too predictably and sometimes he forced himself to simply not look at all, although that was extremely difficult. While it did seem to serve to help cement his charade, it also made the glances he did get in all the more coveted. So despite the exercise, despite the diet, despite the unfamiliar discipline and commitment required, Dudley stuck with Boxing.

It was not long before the fruit of his efforts began to manifest, for despite his past atrocious eating habits and obese condition Dudley was still a young person and young people are very often blessed with vigorous powers of recuperation. Over the following school year, Dudley transformed from the immense boy of rolling girth into a hulking youth of thick muscular build. No longer fighting with his parents over the diet, his formidable waistline began to sharply reduce. At the same time, his arms and shoulders began to assert themselves while his gut began to recede. The slouch that had started to creep into his posture was arrested and driven off as his contours began to redefine themselves. The running and stairs had exacted a toll of aching pain and onerous exhaustion in exchange for powerful and thick legs. He still possessed a padding of fat that softened the definition of his round muscles and developing features, but his body had changed considerably. Dudley would never be considered 'lean' but he felt good and he didn't feel so self conscious about his own body in the locker room anymore. In fact one day he was embarrassed to realize that he had developed a rather pleasing backside. Catching his own reflection in the mirror one day near the end of the school year, he paused and took in what he saw. Beefy like the rest of him, his bottom was no longer a pimply affair half hidden by his own body. It had firmed up to a pair of rounded, if a bit ample, mounds of muscle that looked good atop his stocky muscular legs and framed by the thick V of his developing back. The constant exercise and revised diet had also resulted in a near complete banishment of the body acne that had previously plagued him. His face showed it as well, as if he had been a puffy drawing of himself that a better artist than the original had come back through to clean up and sharpen into focus. Dudley liked what he saw. It was a confusing experience having come to loath himself for so long and now to have found something about himself to be proud of. The more alarming change that presented itself however was Dudley's near constant erections.

The persistent training and improved diet had done wonders not only for Dudley's physique but also for his general health. With a much improved cardiovascular conditioning and significantly reduced weight Dudley was also finding himself in the throes of a teenage boy's libido. The slightest erotic notion that crossed his mind could result in a near instant erection of almost painful rigidity, and Dudley's mind was flooded with such notions almost constantly. He found needed to masturbate at least four to six times a day in order to keep his constant state of arousal manageable. It almost became a ritualized part of his schedule. In the early hours of the morning before he arose from bed (sometimes again in the morning shower) he made the most of whatever erortic dream has caused him to crust up his bedsheets the night before. Breaks between classes and lunchtime usually involved a frenetic session in the bathroom stall. These were fraught with frustrating and yet at the same time tantalizing moments where he was made to remain absolutley still, rigid penis in hand and breath held, when someone else intruded into the rest room. If the wait was not too long he would resume when alone again, but often he had to simply zip up and leave in fevered frustration. These times were unbearable, and he lost all capacity to focus on school or anything else until he could find another moment of privacy and succumb to his need. The very worst however was when he would realize that the other visitor (and on a few occasions, visitors) was also beating off in their own stall. Dudley's heart would race and he would fantasize about resuming along with the anonymous stranger, and maybe even call to them and see where that led. He never did however. It was too risky. Dudley could barely manage how much he craved and it scared him. Beating off in private was one thing, but anything that risked discovery he reasoned could only result in his parents finding him out in the end. So whenever he found himself in such a situation, he would zip up and get out. Times like those would invariably result in fevered fantasies and furious masturbation in the privacy of his bedroom later. The most essential wank of the day occurred when he got home from Boxing with sights from the locker room fresh in his heated memory. Homework later that evening sometimes needed a good beat off, either to get focused enough to do it or as an arbitrary reward for completing it. Bedtime was when he would make it last. It was when he would think about the different things he wished he could try with boys like Piers or some of the men like his coaches and homeroom teacher. He would drop off to a dead sleep right after, sometimes with his underwear still pushed down under his large balls and cum pooled on his belly. Rinse and repeat.

Over the next two years, Dudley had become a large thickset muscular lad. He remained a notorious bully, channeling his secret frustrations and bottled feelings into outbursts and mean-spirited violence. He had gathered a little mob of other bullies around him as well with his second in command Piers Polkis. Piers had also grown up to be a lantern jawed thug of a boy with a penchant for petty cruelties. Shorter than Dudley, he was nearly as muscular and gleefully enjoyed terrorizing others with "Big D" as they all now called Dudley. Dudley often claimed to be having tea with the Polkis' when he in fact was out extorting pocket money from other children or generally acting the thug with Piers late into the evening. On some weekends Piers would come to stay at Dudley's house where they would play weekend long MMOs late into the night. Dudley came to nervously look forward to these visits. For when the boys finally did go to bed (Dudley in his bed and Piers on a rollout) at the wee hours of daybreak, Dudley had come to learn that if he play acted to be asleep for a bit Piers would eventually quietly masturbate. This first time Dudley caught on, his heart beat so loudly in his ears that he was sure Piers would hear it. Barely opening his eyes and struggling to keep his breathing in check, Dudley watched Piers silently cast aside his blanket, fished his hardening penis out of his pajamas and quickly and stealthily stroked himself to ejaculation. Piers was fast and efficient about it while trying to keep his ragged breaths silent as possible. Dudley could scarcely breathe himself as he spied from his feigned slumber. Simply watching Piers furtively run his clenched fist up and down the thick and flared penis that had emerged was nearly enough to make Dudley cum into his underwear. The barely audible _thap-thap-thap_ sound that accompanied the motion nearly drove Dudley insane. While time seemed to stand still for Dudley during it all, Piers was in fact quick about his business and soon a thick spurt of pearly goo coated his clenched hand and shaft while Piers carefully let out a jagged breath of relief. A used sock cleaned up the evidence and Piers was soon covered up again and asleep. Dudley was left in shocked and maddening silence that he dared not disturb until he was certain Piers was really asleep. His own furious silent wank that followed was quick and explosive.

What followed was torture. Dudley was transfixed and obsessed with what he had witnessed. His daily beat-off sessions were now solely dedicated to what he had seen. Dudley invited Piers over for the weekend more frequently now and Dudley was sure to secretly watch Piers' every time they went to bed. Unaware of his audience, Piers never failed to perform and Dudley's subsequent fantasies would take more and more creative licenses on where these sessions could lead between them. In time, Dudley's imagined scenarios would contrive that Piers would catch Dudley watching and instead of being embarrassed or angry he would look into Dudley's eyes for a few silent moments and then ask "Big D" to do the work for him. Other times, Dudley would imagine Piers creeping into his bed and covertly attempting to lower Dudley's briefs and stroke him without waking him. Dudley was going crazy with wanting to touch Piers and be touched in return. Having seen his mate's swelling cock being quickly pumped, he began to imagine much more explicitly about what they could do together than he had before. Previously when he fantasized he had imagined abstract rough wrestling, rubbing of bodies, dominating pins and a general naked rolling about. Now he thought about Piers meaty hand and how it would feel holding him. He thought about the quick breaths Piers made as he was about to cum and what it might be like to hear that sound up close near his neck. He trembled thinking about what it might be like to take Piers into his mouth. His imagination was burning along with his body in a hormone fueled blaze. It was hell and he was addicted to it.


	3. Dudley's First Kiss

**Dudley's First Kiss**

 _"They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair,_

 _they grow like fungus where it is decay, they drain peace,_

 _hope, and happiness out of the air around them..."_

Outwardly, Dudley continued to be bully and a general thug in the neighborhood. He, Piers and their gang of cronies engaged in vandalism, shoplifting and a degree of bullying that might as well be termed as mugging and theft. They had particularly focused their violence on boys in the neighborhood that they perceived as being weak or effeminate, for they generally proclaimed that the two qualities were synonymous. Secretly, Dudley was tormented by Piers and his desire for him. Outwardly, Dudley was generally cross and given to cruel whims. That suited Piers and their cohorts agenda well enough and Dudley's souring personality never caused anyone to suspect a thing.

When it came to his Harry however, "Big D" had stopped targeting his cousin. Dudley was no longer prone to bully Potter nor did he encourage his cohorts to badger his cousin either. Harry had long since drawn a line in the sand with the Dursleys and Dudley was rather afraid of him now. He certainly did not want another pig's tail or to be turned into a balloon like his aunt, and his cousin implied that he could do much worse if he wanted. At one point it had been revealed that Harry would suffer consequences for performing magic away from his school but it was also later repeatedly demonstrated that Harry was quite willing to cross that line if pressed. So Dudley was careful around Harry. He still found ways to be spiteful or mean without drawing his cousin's magical reprisal however. One such time arose when he caught his younger cousin crying in his sleep.

"Don't kill him!" Dudley had heard late one night.

He had just drifted off to sleep thinking about undressing Piers, when Dudley was awakened by the sound of his cousin's cry from the other room. Sitting up, he pressed his ear to the wall and heard Harry cry out again over and over, "No! Don't kill him. Don't kill Cedric!".

After awhile, Harry drifted back into dreamless sleep and Dudley was left to his thoughts in the dark. He thought about what he had heard and he began to wonder who Cedric might be to Harry. Cedric sounded important and Harry had sounded very upset. Not being privy to the actual story of Harry's trials during the Tri Wizard tournament and the harrowing events at Hogwarts, Dudley had only his own imagination to fill in the blanks. So Dudley suspected that Harry was in love with this Cedric. He began to suspect that Harry might also be a queer.

Believing he had discovered that his cousin was gay, Dudley felt some panic. Harry was still the world's omega in his mind. Potter was supposed the be lowest of people in Dudley's world and an example to all of who it would better to be dead than be. That Harry might also be a queer, made Dudley twist inside It suggested that Dudley had something in common with Harry, which frightened him. Dudley hated himself for being a poof and continued to tell himself he would get over it but now that he suspected Harry was one, it somehow seemed more dire. Another even more terrifying idea then occurred to him. Maybe he could talk to his cousin.

The idea that there might be someone he knew that he could talk to scared him terribly and to stirred up unanswered questions and stubborn denials he had believed silenced. The glimmer of hope he was feeling also illuminated his fears. Even considering such a breach in his practiced and ingrained pretense made him feel exposed and threatened. Dudley couldn't admit it in so many words even to himself, but deep down he knew that Harry must hate him for the lifelong bullying Dudley had provided him with. Taking that into consideration, Dudley thought it would be very likely that his cousin might prey upon such a revelation as a weakness in Dudley and expose him to the everyone. The uncomfortable implication of fault on his own part did nothing to sweeten Dudley's manner. Dudley was wracked in anxiety and frustration for days as he anguished over the dubious proposition and it's equally doubtful outcome.

It was a week before school started up and Dudley was feeling especially conflicted. He had been prowling the playground with Piers and another mate. Dudley had been trying to work up the nerve to have a casual conversation with his cousin, thinking to carefully test his suspicions without giving himself away. Having spent so much energy in frustrated consideration about such an encounter, Dudley was quite off balance when they unexpectedly came upon Potter at the swingset. Familiar with Dudley's default behavior, Potter took the initiative and lobbed the first verbal salvo needling his big cousin about picking on kids much younger and smaller than he. Dudley's repartee in turn was much more clumsy and Harry quickly came ahead in the verbal sparring match. Embarrassed and frustrated to be talked down to by his cousin in front of his crew, Dudley found himself filled with angry resentment. He couldn't believe he even considered making himself vulnerable to Potter. In an angry fit of defensive hurt, he chose that moment to throw Harry's nightmare in his face. He accused Harry of pining for his soppy boyfriend Cedric, expecting his cousin to become flustered and shamed the revelation. To his shock, Harry suddenly became deadly serious and the wand came out. Ignorant of the threat the bit of wood posed, Piers continued to jeer at Harry and goaded Dudley to pound the scrawny boy into the dirt. Dudley on the other hand remained perfectly still, his eyes on the wand that pointed at him inches away. How he could explain his predicament to Piers, was beyond Dudley in the moment. The impasse became academic when the storm hit.

Sudden and unnaturally cold, windy tumbles of leaves and detritus swept through the playground and rain began to hammer down from the sky. Spooked, Piers and his henchman fled for cover in different directions while Dudley was suddenly dragged away in a third direction by his much smaller cousin. Surprised by Harry's unexpected urgency and the strange sense of frightening cold the storm seemed to carry, Dudley stumbled along in Potter's wake as they tried to escape the dark torrent of ominous weather. Try as they might, the storm proved unavoidable and somehow oddly tenacious. The cold seemed to gather and pursue them like a malevolent hunter cornering prey too slow to escape it. Before Dudley knew what was happening, he was swallowed by shadows and found himself on his knees in a cold alleyway with _something_ holding his head back. As icy wisps of despair began to work their way into his mouth, Dudley fell into darkness. It would take years for Dudley to climb back out.

From Harry's story we know that the boys had been attacked by Dementors and that one had attempted to preform 'The Kiss' upon Dudley. Harry saved them both with a summoned patronus, for which he endured significant hypocrisy and persecution for at the hands of the Ministry of Magic. Dudley however was aware of none of this. Muggles cannot see Dementors, and as such Dudley only knew that his cousin had been pointing his wand at him and then insanity had broken loose. In the aftermath of the attack, Harry had managed to secure the assistance of the neighborhood's local crazy cat-lady (who in fact was a squib agent of the Order of the Phoenix set to keep an eye on Harry) and thereby managed to steer his large cousin home. The ensuing screaming match between Dudley's parents and Harry did nothing to clarify matters and Dudley's account of what had happened had been a fogged and confused babble that failed to provide further clarity. Accused of having harmed Dudley, Harry had left for school that year under a fog of even greater animosity than usual. Dudley was left behind with no one to help him understand what had been done to him and parents committed to sweeping the entire affair under the rug.

In the following months Dudley was a shell of himself. He seldom spoke and became a recluse in his bedroom. School and boxing both suffered and he was frequently absent from both. Concerned teachers and disappointed coaches pestered the Dursleys about Dudley's absences and both Vernon and Petunia Dursley became both fretful and mortified. They feared that Potter had ruined their son and consequentially their reputation and standing in the community. Vernon Dursely invented vague tales to tell the neighbors, explaining away Dudley's condition as a protracted case of mononucleosis. His parents also agreed to refrain from sending Dudley to a therapist, concerned that Dudley might let slip about Dementors and magic. Mister Dursely concluded that a strong boy like Dudley didn't need therapy and that he would get over what had happened in due course, as one might recover from a bad cold. For his part, Dudley was largely unaware of these details. Dudley was still in the alleyway, still in the dark.

When a Dementor feeds, it draws away all the hope, good feelings and love in their victims. All that gets left behind are the negative and unhappy thoughts and feelings that make up guilt, doubt and fear in a person. The ultimate expression of this process occurs when the Dementor attempts to devour their victim's soul, a process colloquially known as 'The Kiss'. In Dudley's case, the Dementor that attacked him had been thwarted in it's attempt to devour him. Harry's cousin did not come away from the experience unscathed however.

When the lights were being drawn away and the precious few embers of happiness he had clung to were being snuffed out like candle flames, a kind of poison had leeched into Dudley and had rooted itself and begun to fester. It was a poison of ideas, of cruel whispers and hateful conclusions. As the cold closed in and hope died, Dudley could hear something he had always known but had been terrified to admit. It was being whispered to him from the crooked shadow that held him fast in it's ice cold grip. The words slipped into him and found their reflection already present in the depths of Dudley's oldest fears. The words told him an awful truth that put the lie to everything that mattered. A truth so bad that would it seep into everything he knew and turn it sour. He saw that he was worthless. He saw that he hated himself and had done so for most of his life. What he was sickened him. The person he pretended to be a lie and the truth of what he was underneath was to be reviled. His parents did not love him. They did not even know him, and if they did know, he would disgust them. Even his abnormal cousin had friends where Dudley only had accomplices. Piers would call him a filthy faggot if he knew the real Dudley. He would be disgusted to know who Dudley felt about him. In the dark and toxic vision that played out before him, Dudley saw that he had been a pathetic scared bully all his life, that he was worthless because of it and that there was no one now that would care if disappeared tomorrow. Dudley was shown all of these things by he whispering cold and in the dark, alone, unknown and unloved Dudley Dursley had come to a decision. He was going to die.


	4. The Boy Who Survived

**The Boy Who Survived**

 _"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."_

In his darkened bedroom Dudley contemplated suicide. The impact of his encounter with the Dementor had gone largely underestimated by his parents who where primarily concerned with their reputation and keeping their son's condition quiet. The idea of killing himself had frightened Dudley in the past. No matter how alone he had felt before, he was always more afraid of dying than being alone. Now however, he felt a surprising calm. The wretched emptiness had finally outweighed the desire to live another day. All the fear was going to be over. Discovery of his secret wouldn't matter because he would be dead and the dead can't feel. It was the method that gave Dudley pause. How was it to be done? Dudley wanted a way out that didn't hurt. He was tired of hurting and didn't want more of it. He was sick of being himself and painfully tired of being a freak. He wanted to simply go to sleep and stop. Eventually, he finally decided upon the Valium in his mother's medicine cabinet.

Dudley waited until his parents were both away. It was a cold Friday in January and Mrs Dursely had dashed out the the store to replenish her cleaning supplies and to pick up Mr Dursley's dry cleaning. Vernon Dursley was still at the office and would continue to be so for hours still. Alone in the house, Dudley rose from his bed and took a bottle of Brandy from his father's liquor cabinet. It was an expensive gift from a business colleague that his father was sure to boast about when he entertained guests. He then procured his mother's bottle of Valium and returned to his room. Pouring himself four fingers of his father's prize liquor, he counted out sixteen pills onto the desk he sat at. One pill for each of his years in one hand, Dudley took the drink up in his other. He wanted to do the thing speedily before his growing apprehension stopped him. He took a deep breath to firm his resolve and found his eyes blurring uncontrollably. Wiping them clear he brought the snifter of brandy to his lips and readied the chaser of pills.

"I'm just a waste of space." he whispered to the room.

Right then, at that very moment, came a solid set of three loud knocks at Dudley's bedroom door.

Dudley's heart almost stopped in surprise. Failing to actually stop, it changed direction and proceeded to beat at a gallop. Dudley froze and nearly dropped the glass of expensive booze down his shirt. He recovered his wits enough to set both pills and liquor down on the desk. By then a second trio of knocks rapped firmly upon the door. These were followed by the strong and sonorous voice of an elderly man Dudley could not place.

"Dudley? Dudley Dursley, please open your door." the fatherly sounding man requested.

Dudley blinked in surprise.

The voice carried a tone of gentle concern paired with a quiet and regal confidence that was accustomed to being obeyed.

"I wish to speak with you." it added kindly.

A silent pause ensued and then Dudley slowly opened his bedroom door. His mind reeled with what he had been about to do and he felt confused and disconnected. Distracted and mechanical in his manner, Dudley fought to shore up his wits and looked out into the hallway to find a tall, thin and very old man arrayed in long grey robes , a purple cloak which swept the ground and buckled boots standing in the hallway. Dudley at least assumed the man to be very old, for he was silver of hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. The man's blue eyes however belied the suggestion of advanced age, for they practically danced with light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles that perched upon a very long and crooked nose. As a boxer, Dudley could recognize a broken nose when he saw one and this man's nose looked like it had been broken twice. After a few moments of stunned silence, Dudley realized the fellow was someone from his cousin's world. The man was a wizard.

There had once been a time when Dudley's default reponse would have been to shout and make a fuss, either to disparage the old man as a freak or to flee in bigoted terror and call for help. Dudley found he didn't care to do either now. He discovered he really didn't care that the man was a wizard. Nor did it really matter that a stranger had invaded the house while his parent where away. He remembered that none of this mattered anymore. As he no longer particularly cared, Dudley couldn't find the motivation to do anything about it. Instead he glanced back to the waiting tumbler and pills in his room and said," Harry isn't here. He's at school." He hoped he could get rid of the old fellow quickly and be done with the final details.

The stranger smiled politely. "I know Dudley.", his reply was touched with compassion. "It is you who I am here to speak with."

Dudley looked up in wary surprise and then scowled. He didn't care who the daft old man was nor what he wanted with him. He had no patience left for anything, least of all a doddering codger from his cousin's world. A curt and rude reply was stopped short by the old man's piercing gaze. The old man's crystal blue eyes seemed to look right into Dudley, through his mask and right at who he was. It made Dudley feel oddly vulnerable, like the wizard could see all of Dudley's secrets laid out like the pages of a book open for anyone to read. The cross reply that had been forming, died on Dudley's lips and he felt his breathing coming fast and shallow as a hard cold pit in his chest started to eat at his concentration.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the headmaster of the school your cousin Harry attends. "

He regarded Dudley's conflicted expression and inclined his head in an apologetic nod.

"Dudley my boy. I realize that my appearance in your house and at your bedroom door must be something of a shock, or at the very least poses a measure of distress for you.I most sincerely regret that I have appeared to you in such sudden and unexpected manner. I personally cannot abide rudeness and I feel I must apologize with the deepest sincerity that our introduction could not have been more nuanced and conducted in a proper fashion. You certainly deserve more consideration than you have been afforded but I think we can both agree that in this case, decorum had to give way to urgency,"

Confusion deepened in Dudley's expression and Dumbledore pressed on.

"As I gather that your parents are unlikely to have elaborated with any degree of objective accuracy upon the details of Harry's life beyond this house, you may not be aware that your cousin has been in danger for most of his life. The details are myriad and I am trespassing upon parental authority enough without needlessly delving into into them with you."

The silver haired wizard sighed regretfully, there were clearly volumes of details being left out and the fellow seemed to be weighing his words. After a pause, he resumed.

"Dudley, suffice it to say that due to certain precautions taken by those of my kind with an interest in your cousin's well-being, we have kept watch over both this house and the comings and goings of you and your family as Harry's relatives."

The alarm that showed in Dudley's eye was cut short by a placating raised hand from the wizard.

"I am certain that your parents would not approve of such an intrusion into the privacy of your family, but I promise you Dudley that our intentions have been only to safeguard this home and it's inhabitants from considerable danger. Inevitably however, over the years of monitoring your family, we have become aware of many personal details concerning the daily lives of the Dursley household."

Dumbledore paused again and tilted his head to the side slightly to observe Dudley's response.

Instead of acknowledging the man, Dudley looked away. A cornered sort of panic vied with the bone deep weariness that ate at him. His stomach was in knots and the ache in his chest and throat threatened to swallow him whole. It made him stutter and shake.

"I.." he began and then faltered. "I don't..."

Dumbledore carried, on cutting off Dudley deftly,

The wizard looked over the rim of his spectacles with a frank expression but also with a heartfelt sympathy in his eyes.

"Dudley, I'm here because I know what you were about to do."

Dudley choked. He felt flushed and then he felt faint. He felt furious and then frightened. His mouth worked to speak his denial but the words caught in his throat and would not come. Shocked to discover that his body was shaking uncontrollably he touched his face and found it was wet.

"I..I.." was all he could stutter and to his profound embarrassment he started weeping, unable to stop himself in the slightest. The awful ache in his chest burst and control slid out of his reach. What followed blindsided him in a torrent of pain and blinding anguish. Weeping became bawling and Dudley's hands came up to cover his face as he shook violently and unable to stop. All the hurt and anger and despair boiled up inside and he could only bellow raw noises like a mortally wounded beast gasping between cries of agony. Eyes shut tight and despairing fury, he felt like he was drowning, or that he might explode. He hurt and it seemed that was all he would ever do again. He felt like he was tearing apart. It felt like it would go on forever.

Dumbledore stepped to Dudley and like a venerable silver tree leaning over a great boulder, he held the hunched and sobbing boy in his arms for a long time.

"Dudley." Dumbledore said softly after Dudley's crying jag had subsided somewhat. "You _can_ be happy Dudley."

He stepped back from the boy to allow him to compose himself and wipe his eyes. The headmaster of Hogwarts took no exception with the display of strong emotion and knew that Dudley's outburst had been both completely understandable and long overdue. As a veteran teacher however, he knew that the egos of young men were rather fragile when it came to their feelings and he wanted to provide Dudley with the opportunity to collect himself.

Dudley sniffed and held his arms tight around himself afraid that the torrent of emotions would come spilling out again if he dropped his guard. He eyes stung and he felt completely stuffed up. Embarased and mortified, he knew he looked like a great blubbering git but the old man only looked at him with a deep and understanding sympathy.

Dumbledore regarded Dudley, his expression both frank and insistent. "Dudley, I know why it is that you want to end your life."

Dudley felt the blood leave his face. He avoided Dumbledore's eyes.

The wizard continued, "Please believe me when I say this." Reaching up he guided Dudley's chin up so that their eyes met again. "You are wrong Dudley. You are not a waste of space."

Dudley started to tremble again. Dumbledore's gaze held him .

"I am so very sorry that your parents are not equiped to help you see that, but you must believe me Dudley when I say that who you are inside is worthy of both love and also being loved.'"

A powerful sense of certainty accompanied Dumblerbor's words and tears continued to blur Dudley's vision. Dudley was taken by a fresh wave of choked sobbing and Dumbledore put an arm around his shoulder and offered a white handkerchief embroidered with a fanciful golden 'H'. The cloth was incredibly soft and felt soothing on Dudley's face.

The venerable wizard guided Dudley to the living room, where two hot mugs of cocoa mysteriously awaited them.

"You have been led to believe _terrible_ falsehoods about who you are Dudley." Dumbledore resumed as he sat the shaking teen down and pressed one of the mugs into his hands. The scent of the hot chocolate seemed to ease the rough edges in Dudley as the boy accepted.

Dumbledore sat opposite to Dudley with a mug of his own and regarded the young man.

"You have been fed upon a lifetime of prejudices by the ignorant and fearful. Believing your survival at stake, you have spent your young life living a lie.

What you need to know Dudley, is that there exists a whole life for you outside the cage of fear you've been tricked into."

He raised a finger to emphasis his next few words.

"Dudley, we do not have the time together that such an important matter deserves and I apologize for my abrupt and direct manner but these things must be said. Your attraction to those of your same gender is perfectly natural and normal. It places you in a minority to be certain but you are going to learn that variety is not only a fact of life but part of what makes it wondrous. In short Dudley, being gay is nothing to be ashamed of and has no bearing upon your worth as a person or your character as a man. The ugliness you have been persuaded to believe about yourself is an awful web of lies so poisonous and persuasive that you were prepared to take your own life."

Dumbledore dropped his hand and leaned in.

"Dudley, a whole life of possibility and happiness can be yours if you are brave enough to reach out and take it."

Dudley's breath caught and he held it. His heart threatened to hammer through his chest and it felt as if the world had stopped.

It had been undeniable what the old man had been getting at in his charismatic if rushed manner, but innuendo had just become stated words. The wizard had voiced there in the room the secret Dudley had never spoken of aloud Dumblerdore's direct and blunt delivery brooked no denial and there was an unshakable sense of surety in his voice. For a moment, Dudley dared to look outside the dark pit that had swallowed him and hope. Hope that there might be a tomorrow where he was ok. A tomorrow where he might be loved for who he was and not for who he pretended to be.


	5. A Path Out of the Dark

**A path out of the dark**

 _"_ _You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."_

A long conversation ensued that afternoon in the living room of number Four Privet Drive. There were no astonishing transformations of perspective nor any miraculous epiphanies of character achieved in the unlikely meeting of muggle boy and elderly wizard. It was nevertheless one of the most important conversations in Dudley's life to date. Assurances that Dudley's mother would not return home for hours were made. Dudley suspected that magic had been employed to arrange this, but the traditional aversion to all thing strange he had been raised to uphold felt trivial in the face of his current circumstances. He did not have much opportunity to reflect upon such concerns in any case as the Headmaster of Hogwarts wasted little time in getting to the heart of the conversation that had begun at Dudley's bedroom door. The kindly old man spoke with a piercing wisdom and frank insight that disarmed Dudley's practiced denials and defenses. Dudley felt as if the wizard spoke from a place of personal knowledge and it made him feel less alone. After having come to believe that he would never reveal his secret to anyone, it was surreal to find himself now baring his soul to someone from his cousin's world.

We must consider the era in which this part of Dudley's life occurs. The advent of the internet was still in it's crude infancy and easy access to knowledge via online search engines had yet to arrive. As such, Dudley lacked many of the coming out avenues and sources of information available to the youth of today. Without the options the Internet would one day bring, Dudley was further isolated by a recently post-Thatcher England gripped in painful homophobia. A decidedly conservative town in northern Surrey, Little Whinging was not a place where gay outreach was likely to be found and Dudley's school Smeltings was a hostile environment that fostered a number of hazing traditions that singled out boys deemed to be lacking in 'proper masculinity'. His parents were clearly no better. For Dudley, there had been a marked scarcity of options.

None of this deterred Albus Dumbledore. Articulate and practiced in debate, the silver haired wizard masterfully challenged many of the assumptions Dudley had grown up with yet had never considered consciously before. The headmaster conjured a compelling picture of hope as the old man cited numerous examples of gay acquaintances that lived perfectly happy lives. Dudley could not help but note that all of the names recounted by the wizard where odd sounding and most likely the names of other wizards and witches rather than 'muggles' as the non-magic sort were apparently called. Dudley found himself wondering wistfully about the world his cousin lived in.

"Dudley," said Dumbledor, setting down his mug of cocoa. "I will not pretend that a difficult time is not ahead of you. I am sorry to say that the muggle world in this day and age can be a hostile and unkind place for the unusual and different. I think you know that already however." He eyed the boy over his glasses and added "You have been part of that injustice yourself I believe." The pointed tone was tempered with an understanding that softened the implied accusation.

Dudley flushed feeling guilty and miserable. He nodded.

"Yes." he mumbled.

A sad smile touched the old man's eyes. "The pain that you have felt for most of your young life is an all too common story with young men such as yourself. Human beings are social animals and the need to belong is a powerful drive inherent in most people. Unfortunately it is that very desire to belong that often drives us to hide who we are. The fear of rejection frequently silences truth and the threat of ostracization can intimidate even the bravest. To survive, many feel that they must convince those around them of their credentials as an 'acceptable' member of society. Such pretenses require continued demonstration and invariably they become outspoken proponents of the very lies that drove them to hide and fear in the first place." The Wizard looked to Dudley meaningfully and the young man had trouble meeting his eyes.

"I do not say these things to lay blame or to castigate you Dudley, but these are important matters for you to understand if you are to be free of the torment you find yourself in. " continued Dumbledore.

"Compassion comes from experience. You know first hand the pain and despair that comes from living in a lie. Living behind the mask of a pretense has isolated you and that deception you felt so necessary to uphold has prevented the bonds of trust to form between you and another human being. The hopelessness, bitterness and isolation this has engendered nearly led you to give up on living altogether. It convinced you that you were worthless and unclean. "

Dumbledore paused and regarded Dudley intently before saying, "So consider what it might have been like for the boys you have tormented."

Dudley felt ashamed. He began to consider that maybe he didn't deserve to be happy after all but the old man seemed to know exactly where his mind was going and cut off that line off thinking immediately.

"No Dudley," remonstrated the wizard. "Again, it is not my desire to burden you with guilt. It is simply important for you to understand. Until we can accept who we are and who we have been, we cannot grow to become who we might be. I think if you consider it, you will find that playing the bully has yet to provide you with any true happiness. In fact I would venture to say that it has only made you more miserable, yes?"

Unable to find his voice to reply, Dudley simply nodded while his eyes kept to the living room carpet.

Dumbledore nodded. "That is because deep down, you know the truth of the hurt you have inflicted. You know it because you have felt it. "

Dudley nodded again. He felt raw and rough inside. A weariness seemed to be coming over him in the wake of the recent deluge of emotions. Bone tired, he made no attempt to deflect what was being said. It was all very true.

"You now have an opportunity Dudley." the wizard continued after a long pause." An opportunity to choose a different sort of life. One where you can be who you really are and one where you can find those who might love you because they truly know you."

A lump in Dudley's throat made it hard to swallow but he did and looked up.

"I make no guarantees about the ease or safety of such a path but I promise you it is a risk with far more possibilities than the terrible isolation you have been confined to. Doubtless there will be many that will despise you and attempt to tear you down for your bravery, but there will also be those who will accept you and come to care for you. The first steps of this path you have already taken by allowing me to speak with you this afternoon. It began when you chose to set aside the terrible end you had sealed yourself to. Difficult steps are ahead of you but never forget that there is a light at the end of this road."

Dumbledore withdrew a wand that he passed gracefully over the empty mugs, causing them to vanish. Another flick removed the dribbles of cocoa that Dudley had let fall upon his mother's snow white carpet. Tucking the wand back into his sleeve, the old wizard then produced a folded piece of ivory parchment and offered it to Dudley.

"This is the address and telephone number of an acquaintance of mine. I would like to offer you the chance to have someone that you can talk to on this journey. I am afraid that certain events occuring in my world prevent me from being that person for you Dudley. Currently such an arrangement would invite even more danger onto this household and I think that this home already has more than it's share of concerns." Dumbledor turned his gaze to the family photos that crowded the mantelpiece over the electric hearth. His voice was touched with disapointment as he added, " Ideally of course, you should be able to look to your parents for guidance. The reality I'm afraid is far less ideal. I do not mean to disparage your parents Dudley, but I think you might be wise to wait until you are of age before you share this matter with them. I sincerely wish it were otherwise but I fear that the flaws your parents are burdened with will very likely cause them to say and do things that all will regret. I think your well being would best be served if you were an adult when you have that conversation."

Dudley's eyes filled with tears but he kept from actually weeping. He knew the truth of Dumbeldore's words. He accepted the paper and looked at it. The address was a residence in London, about an hour and a half by train from Little Whinging. It would be a simple matter to make such a trip on weekends, and his parent never held him to a schedule outside of school. Dudley felt a little disappointed when he realized that he was being handed off to someone else however. He had just begun to open up to Dumbledore and this felt a little like a betrayal. Again the wizard seemed to guess Dudley's thoughts and nipped them in the bud. "I am sorry Dudley, your situation is closer to my heart than you might guess, but I am a rather controversial person in my world and there are many dangerous wizards who would like nothing better than to use you to draw me out, should they notice an ongoing correspondence between us. I can promise you however that Mrs Thomas is an eminently qualified individual and quite suited to ofter you the support you so very much require."

Dudley's brow furrowed and looked at the paper and saw the name 'Hellen Thomas' scrawled in a flowing script over the address and telephone number." She's a witch then?"

"She is not." Dumbledore replied smiling. "Mrs Thomas is a psychotherapist."

Seeing the surprise in Dudley's eyes, the wizard elaborated. "You will find that the contempt of magic and the magical world that has so strongly characterized your familiy is generally not found in other muggles who discover a witch or wizard relative in their midst. Typically these muggle relations continue with their lives and find a happy equilibrium between their world and the Wizarding World. Had your father and mother been more receptive to your cousins' magical heritage, I have no doubt that you would be familiar with Diagon Alley by now." Dumbledore smiled nostalgically and added, "I cannot tell you how festive the street appears during Holiday. Quite a sight."

Shaking himself from what was clearly a pleasant reverie, the wizard returned to the subject, "What I mean to say Dudley is that there are a good number of muggles who have wizard or witch relations and as such are fully aware of the existence of magic and the magical world. Mrs Thomas is such a muggle. She is the parent of one of my students and I find her to be a wise and insightful lady. I have already spoken of you to her. No deep details mind you, just a general summary of your situation." Dumbledore took a moment before he then added , " She is aware that you were attacked by a Dementor as well. You should therefore feel no need to omit details regarding your cousin and his world for fear of sounding unbalanced."

Dudley blinked. Therapists and the like had generally been a subject of ridicule and derision in the Dursley home. This attitude was primarily communicated by way of boisterous rantings on the subject by Mr. Dursley. Decried as 'weak-minded nonsense', the idea of therapy seemed a waste. His stance on the matter faltered quickly however as Dumbledore patiently awaited Dudley's response . Many of the notions Dudley had lived his life by had been turned upside down in the recent hours and the idea that he might find help was compelling. He felt a glimmer of cautious hope.

"Okay." he said. his voice sounded hoarse and it hurt a little. He cleared his throat and added more clearly,"Okay, yeah I'lll see her."

The sound of Mrs Dursley opening the front door made Dudley jump from his couch and look around in panic.

"Diddy-kiiins..." called Mrs Dursley in an off key voice. "Mummy's home."

There was a faint pop in the air behind Dudley and when he turned back to the couch he found that Dumbledore had disappeared. Standing up, he straightened his shirt, wiped his eyes and made his way quietly to his bedroom and returned his mother's pills and his father's brandy to their proper places. He then grabbed his gym bag and headed downstairs. He needed to hit things.

"I'm going out mum." he called to a surprised Petunia as he strode out the front door.

Hours later, Dudley was dressed again having showered after a long session at the heavy bag. Sitting on the bench in front of his locker he looked at the paper the old wizard had given him. He gathered his things and made his way to the payphone outside and dialed the number written on the parchment.


End file.
